


Blessings

by FunkyinFishnet



Series: Herne's Sons [1]
Category: Robin of Sherwood
Genre: Celebrations, Character of Faith, F/M, Family, Friendship, Grief, Relationship(s), Responsibility, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-05
Updated: 2010-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward grew up hearing stories about Herne, but it wasn't until he became thane of Wickham that he understood the true role Herne played in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessings

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to rusty_armour who betaed and encouraged. Originally posted at the Robin of Sherwood Fanfic Archive.

Edward first knew Herne as a childhood story. His father, Michael, painted pictures by firelight of the Lord of the Trees, and his son, the Hooded Man, who would come one day, and a kingdom deep in the nearby forest. Edward loved those stories. When he slept, he dreamt of Herne and what could be happening so close to his home at the edge of the forest.

He heard about Herne in the daylight too. Edward saw the altars as he played and attended the ceremonies. He heard Herne's name a lot around the village, proofs of blessings and curses. Herne was part of their lives. But to young Edward, Herne was chiefly someone he heard about before bedtime and who visited him in his dreams. Later he wondered what Herne had wanted from him with those visits and what they had really meant.

His first real memory of seeing Herne for himself (because in the times before he hadn't understood or believed) was during the Time of the Blessing when he was barely eight summers old. He had been one of those chosen to bring the gifts forward and had sat at the front of the chattering crowds, oblivious to the meaning behind the festival and feeling full and content after the great feast.

Then he felt the air stiffen and change around him and a figure emerged through the trees. A figure wrapped in deerskins and wearing the head of a great stag. The hairs on the back of Edward's neck prickled and his breath caught. The figure from his father's stories was walking out of his dreams and into the greenwood.

When Edward placed the gifts at the forest god's feet, he looked up to catch a sight of the face beneath the antlers and saw someone older than he'd ever seen before. The face was worn and folded, but the eyes were strong and Edward thought Herne might have smiled at him. He found himself caught by the silent and wise gaze and his eyes stayed on Herne during the blessing when everyone else bowed their heads.

Long after Herne left them as silently as he'd arrived, Edward's feeling of full-stomached contentment had been replaced by a wonder and a joy that he couldn't explain. He hadn't the words for it at so young an age. As the years gave him clear-sightedness, Edward looked back and remembered that evening as the time that he truly discovered what he was called to.

During the dancing later, as the torches flickered and the laughter was loud and joyful, Edward sat by his father. Michael looked at him knowingly. He could see the questions in his son's eyes, but he was a patient man (a good trait for a thane) and waited.

"How can Herne live when he's so old?" Edward asked eventually, still seeing ancient skin and strong eyes in his mind.

"He is part of the forest, Edward," Michael answered, ruffling his son's hair fondly. "And as long as this forest lives, so will Herne. It's part of our duty to protect it, as he protects us."

Edward looked at the altars differently after that night and paid attention during the ceremonies as he never had before. Herne was real and Edward's heart was full of devotion and wonder. He looked in vain when he hunted in the forest, but he didn't see the forest god until almost a full year later at the next blessing.

Smoke had billowed around Edward as he'd hunted for rabbits and he'd spied Herne stood on a nearby ridge, tall and impossibly steady for a being of such great age. Edward had instantly dropped to his knees and looked up in time to see Herne nod his head before a crack of white light had whisked the forest god away.

Edward had looked hard at the place Herne had stood, but there were no footprints in the earth. Edward knew had seen him, his heart was still beating fast, and he was filled with a joy and a peace that he didn't really understand. But he knew it came from Herne and he rushed home to tell his parents all about it.

He saw Herne several times through the seasons as he grew. Always it was unexpected and sometimes only a glimpse, but Edward knew when the antlers he spied didn't belong to a live buck. Herne continued to bless their harvests and their crops were fruitful.

The Time of the Blessing proved to often be a time of significance for Edward. Many years later, when he had greeted the summer at least six times more, he noticed Alison for the first time. The smith's youngest daughter was suddenly pretty under her dark hair and she smiled at him with eager eyes when he asked her to dance. The way she laughed as he spun her around made his heart feel as though it had skipped a beat, and later he kissed her under the sacred tree.

"You're bold, Edward," she told him.

But she didn't move away and they met there to kiss often during that summer when they weren't working. They were both old enough now to work the fields and the whole village toiled under the baking sun to get the harvest in and pay the taxes the King needed from them. The Sheriff's men visited Wickham a lot, always breaking things and demanding more than the villagers could provide. Edward grew resentfully used to their visits, but wished his father would make these violent and destructive men leave their village alone.

Michael always stood firm. He was polite, but clear in his dislike for their treatment of his villagers and often got beaten for his words. As his wife Ellen bathed Michael's wounds gently, Michael told Edward that a Saxon rebellion would bring ruin to Wickham and Michael was not willing to risk the lives of the villagers. It was what any good thane should do.

"It won't be easy," Edward warned Allison as they stood under the sacred tree together one cool winter's eve.

"Of course it won't be. Do you think I care about that?" Allison replied. "You'll be a good thane."

His mother said the same thing and had told him that the villagers agreed. He had spent his whole life learning to be a thane from following his father everywhere. He was taught about the taxes, how to settle disputes, what to do when men seeking shelter came to the village, Herne's place in their lives.

Each bit had become part of his life, and was as natural to him as shooting a bow or harvesting the land.

"You were born for it, Edward," Michael told him.

Allison wasn't, it would be a hard life for her. Edward would not seek his fortune in Nottingham, or become a squire. He wasn't a warrior, but the people of Wickham needed someone who would lead them out of their panics and disputes and deal with the Sheriff's demands in the right way. Being Wickham's thane was what he was meant for.

"Wickham is my home too, I don't want to live anywhere else," Allison said. "We'll get by, Herne'll protect us."

That had sealed it. Both families approved and soon the young couple were married in the greenwood and living in their own hut in Wickham. Life was growing like the cabbages in the soil and Edward smiled more as he worked. This was the way life was supposed to be, he could feel it.

A year later at the Time of the Blessing, there was a different kind of significant event. Ellen died when she could no longer shield herself from the cold or the illness that had crept into her bones. The whole village mourned on a grey breezy day. Michael said words that Edward found he couldn't hear and Alison didn't let go of Edward's hand. Edward felt solid beside her, like her touch was holding him in place.

When he disappeared after the earth was smoothed flat, Alison left him to the forest and the quiet. There had always been something healing in Sherwood. It was several hours before she went looking and found him near the sacred tree, one foot braced against a root. His knuckles were white on his axe handle.

"Herne didn't protect her," he said into the quiet, his eyes fixed on the tree. "And part of me wants to take part of his tree, so that he can feel our loss too."

"Herne didn't take her, the sickness did," Alison replied firm and strong. "You must know that."

"Aye, the other part of me does."

"She'll be with him now, under the earth and among the trees. She'll become part of his kingdom," Alison's face glowed as she spoke with a smile. "And no one will be able to hurt her there, not the Sheriff or the Captain or any of the guards. She's safe now."

Alison's words were like her touch, pulling him back from wildness, and Edward let go of the axe.

When Robert de Rainault became High Sheriff of Nottingham, Michael was kept on as thane of Wickham. Edward went with him to Nottingham and heard the news in the market place. Gossip of de Rainault's cruelty and his brother Abbot Hugo – a fine pair of thieves. Now that King Richard had gone to war in the Holy Land, Michael told Edward, people like the Sheriff would use their power to gain all they could for themselves.

Michael was right and the taxes got heavier and the punishments harsher. But nothing would stop the people from worshipping Herne and Edward found that Wickham stayed standing. Something stubborn grew in his chest and he heard more than once that he was becoming more like his father. He could feel Herne's presence wherever he walked, though of course it was fainter in the towns like Nottingham where stone walled the forest out.

When the news of a Saxon rebellion reached Wickham, led by a man named Ailric who was the Guardian of the Silver Arrow given to him by Herne, Michael refused to join. He looked sad and worried by the firelight.

"It's not the time, Edward," he told his son one evening. "If this rebellion grows anymore, the Sheriff will work to stamp it out and people will die."

"When will it be the time?" Edward wanted to know.

"When the Hooded Man comes to the forest."

Edward met Ailric once, when Ailric came to talk to Michael one cold wet night. He talked about the rebellion and overthrowing the Sheriff with a fierceness that made Edward believe that the rebellion could succeed. But he remembered his father's words and less than a week later, Loxley was burnt to the ground and Ailric's body was never recovered.

By the time the Hooded Man came to the forest, Edward was thane of Wickham and Alison had borne him a son, Matthew. Michael had joined Ellen under the earth in the greenwood when his years were spent and the Sheriff continued to press upon his people for money that they could not give him. The stories started when Baron de Belleme was killed and the Silver Arrow stolen after an archery tournament in Nottingham. Servants heard Guy of Gisborne tell the Sheriff a message from Herne's Son. Edward had felt himself smile and for a moment, remembered looking up into Herne's face. The time was here at last.

"What's he like, father? The Hooded Man?" Matthew wanted to know one night.

Edward smiled, he was the one telling the stories now and he could remember the time when Herne lived only at night in a little boy's dreams. The Hooded Man had always been a mystery to him.

"He's the king of the greenwood, Matthew. The forest is his kingdom and he'll do all he can to keep it safe from people like the Sheriff and the villains that call it home."

"Will he come to Wickham?"

"I don't know, Matthew. Keep a lookout for him when we go hunting."

The stories of Herne's Son, known as Robin Hood, and his band of outlaws continued to spread. They included tales of a giant, and a Saracen, and a boy barely into adulthood. It was said that the Sheriff's own chaplain had joined them and that a high-born lady lived with these wild men by choice and had become Robin's wife. Edward nodded when he heard of how serfs were protected and rich men robbed. The Hooded Man's justice was what they all needed.

He wanted to meet the man who was giving hope to so many, but there was no call for the Hooded Man to come to Wickham. So Edward heard the stories and talked to those who had met Robin Hood and thanked Herne for sending someone to rescue them from the nobles' cruelty.

*

The first time Edward did meet any of the outlaws, his son woke him up early.

"Father!" Matthew shook his arm, whispering loudly and breathlessly. "Wake up!"

Edward blinked blearily and groaned, feeling Alison shift beside him too. It wasn't quite time to be up tending to the crops or working on repairing that hut that had gotten partly crushed by a wayward cart the day before. Matthew knew this, but he had still woken Edward up.

"What is it, Matthew?" Edward asked, screwing his eyes up against the early morning light.

"There's a stranger in the village. He was outside Meg's hut," Matthew's eyes were wide and excited. "He looks like a giant!"

Strangers in the village were always a reason to be wary. So Edward got up and dressed and saw the man who was walking away from Meg's hut. He was very tall and looked very strong, but he was a man. A man who worked the land and lived outside, judging by the thick sheepskins hung on his large frame and his wild appearance. The man was just beginning to head towards the tree line when Edward stopped him.

"Welcome to Wickham, my friend," Edward said, a measured welcoming smile on his face. "I'm Edward, the thane here."

Startled, the man stopped in his tracks, hefting the fishing pole he was carrying on one shoulder to a more comfortable position. He looked at Edward and then looked around at the other houses behind him and the forest before him. At that Edward knew that this was a man wanted by the Sheriff, an outlaw who had to look over his shoulder to be safe.

"We will not give you over to Gisborne or the Sheriff," Edward reassured him. "Not unless you give us cause to."

"I'd like to see you try," the man replied with a smile in his voice.

Edward laughed, but didn't move from where he was.

"I need to know what you were doing in Wickham. I know it wasn't fishing."

At that, the man blushed and his gaze slid to where his hand gripped the fishing pole. Edward was patient, but he could see some of the villagers begin to emerge from their huts, no doubt woken by the children.

"I was visiting Meg," the man said at last, scratching a hand through his beard. "The fishing poles are…..well, my friends don't know I visit her."

The villagers were getting closer now and some of them were carrying staffs and hunting tools. A stranger in the village could mean a spy or a cutthroat and Wickham had experiences of both. This giant of a man appeared to be neither of them; Edward could see something real when he spoke of Meg.

"It's not what you think," the man said, seeing the crowd close by. "I live in Sherwood, I'm one of Robin Hood's men.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd and Edward signalled for quiet. He eyed the man, assessing the truthfulness of his statement. Many an outlaw could claim friendship with Robin Hood if they thought it would keep them alive. But there were tales of a giant in Robin's outlaw band and this man had kindness, not slyness or cruelty, in his eyes.

"You know Herne's Son?" Edward asked.

"Aye, and a good man he is too," the man smiled proudly. "Working to help places like this village to keep one step ahead of the Sheriff."

"Do you have a name?" Edward asked, an idea forming.

"My friends call me Little John," the man replied with a laugh.

"Well, Little John, it's the Time of the Blessing in a week's time. If you truly know the man they're calling Robin Hood, you're welcome to join us for the celebrations."

In the days leading up to the Time of the Blessing, Edward spent too many hours defending his quick decision to invite outlaws into Wickham. It could bring the Sheriff's attention to them, the villagers could be murdered, the Saracen couldn't be trusted. But Edward stood firm, one of the villagers, William, had met Robin when he'd been saved from the Sheriff's guards and would be able to confirm the outlaws' identities, and Edward knew that the Hooded Man would not put the village in any unnecessary danger.

"Am I doing the right thing?" he asked Alison, the only one who heard his occasional doubts.

"Of course you are. The Hooded Man should be here for the Blessing, it's his right and his place," Alison hugged her husband close and her faith steadied Edwards.

The outlaws appeared suddenly when Wickham was full of laughter and the smells of meat cooking at the Blessing feast. Edward was looking out across the fields when he caught sight of figures dressed in patched rags walking from the nearby greenwood; they almost seemed to melt out from the trees. Little John shook Edward's hand and introduced the others. Robin Hood, appearing as though he was part of the landscape itself and with something in his face that Edward recognised, returned the blessing Edward offered him. At the edge of his vision, Edward saw William nod. So this truly was Robin Hood and his outlaw band.

"Wickham welcomes the Hooded Man and his friends," Edward said, shaking Robin's hand firmly and smiling gladly.

"You weren't sure if Little John told the truth, were you."

It was a statement, but there was no anger to it, and Edward nodded, beckoning the group into the noise and bustle of the celebrations.

"These are dangerous times, Robin. We've had cutthroats and spies in Wickham before, and we've no wish to see it happen again, not if we can help it. We had to be sure," he gestured towards William, who was sat enjoying the feast. "Thanks to you, William is only limping instead of being buried. We've a lot to thank you for and we're glad to have Herne's Son at the Blessing today. You should know, however, that not everyone welcomes you here. Some are afraid."

"Afraid?! Of what?" the question came from the man who had to be Will Scarlet, his anger marking him.

"Of what the Sheriff would do if you were found here. We'd be fined or maybe even burnt to the ground, like Loxley was," Edward noticed Robin's expression darken at his words. "Some don't trust outlaws and think you mean us harm. You must understand that. But most of us are glad for you to be in Wickham, there's plenty of food for everyone and we want you to share in it."

Will was still muttering loudly about ungrateful serfs as they reached the tables of villagers enjoying the feast, but Robin quietened him with a sharp glance and Little John with a nudge in the ribs that should have sent any man sprawling. Edward watched as the outlaws mingled with the villagers, and slowly became part of the celebrations. The villagers who'd been helped by the outlaws were the first to crowd round, along with scores of unafraid children (including Matthew). Little John immediately made himself at home, scooping Meg up, and talking to the villagers who'd gotten to know him since his first visit. His relationship with Meg had been out in the open since the time he'd been almost caught in Wickham and the outlaws had helped pay the fine.

It was the others who were treated with more suspicion initially, the unknowns. The boy Much shyly approached the minstrels with his whistle in his hands and was soon happily picking up the song they were playing. Nasir the Saracen was watched the most carefully, some parents keeping their children away from the dangerous-looking figure. But those who were allowed forward were fascinated by the man in his fighting leathers and by the twin curves of his swords. Nasir quirked his eyebrows at them and smiled silently, his eyes roving over the village for any dangers before nodding at Robin. After that, he drank water and ate very little, but listened to the music and enjoyed the company of the young women who moved closer to him.

Whilst Will went in search of some ale and Friar Tuck, an instantly trustworthy figure thanks to his robes and kindly expression, headed for the food, Robin and Marian sat with Edward and Alison. Marian might still have had the bearing of a lady clinging to her, but she and Alison found common ground and were soon talking freely together. Robin asked Edward about the taxes and Gisborne's destructive rides through Wickham (the same in every village in Nottinghamshire when the steward was bored). He may have been Robin Hood, Herne's Son, but he was one of the people still and knew all that went on in the areas he'd sworn to protect.

"You spoke of Loxley earlier," Robin began after a pause in their conversation, suddenly looking eager. "What do you know about that place?"

"Mostly what everyone does; that it was burnt to the ground as a warning to those who planned to rebel against the Sheriff," Edward replied, remembering his father's warning and Ailric's strong words by firelight. "I met Ailric of Loxley once soon after Alison and I were wed, back when my father, Michael was still thane here."

"What happened?"

There was a hungry light in Robin's eyes now and Edward supposed that it was only natural for this rebel to want to know the details of the previous action against the Sheriff that had failed so bloodily.

"Ailric wanted my father to join in the rebellion, but he refused. I wanted to join Ailric, his words were swaying and he had a passion for seeing the people freed. My father said that it wasn't the right time and that it would end with the Sheriff stamping it out and people dying. He said that the time would be right when the Hooded Man came to the forest."

Robin's expression was stony, clearly affected on a level that Edward didn't understand, and Marian moved to cover his hand with her own. Before Edward could ask, Adam appeared with a buck draped over his shoulders.

"It's almost time, Edward," he reminded the thane, a lot of the villagers behind him beginning to prepare torches to be lit.

"Aye, you're right, Adam," Edward clapped loudly, the crowd's attention fixing on him instantly. "It's time, my friends, to make our way into the greenwood."

Under the trees, Robin and Marian joined in with the dancing, much to Edward's surprise, and they both seemed to know all the steps. Little John danced with his arms around Meg, and Nasir and Will both refused, despite the number of young ladies willing to partner them. It was a strange sight, the most wanted man in Nottingham dancing with an enthusiasm and a grace that spoke of why he hadn't been captured yet, and his men who had to survive by cunning and violence enjoying music and dancing. But it was a rest from looking over their shoulders and living on what they could catch and Edward was glad to he could give that to them for an evening.

He sat with Robin and Marian when the moon was in the right position in the sky and it was time for Herne's blessing. Matthew was sat at the front of the crowd with the children, laughing and play-fighting, whilst Alison was close by talking to Tuck. The atmosphere was peaceful and contented and Edward could feel Herne's presence drawing closer.

"Here he comes," Edward said quietly, his skin prickling as he spied antlers and skins.

Everyone fell silent, even Will who Edward thought probably didn't have as much respect as the others for the forest god, as Herne stepped through smoke and halted before the crowd. Everyone bowed their heads as Herne spread his arms in blessing and he was gone by the time the murmuring started.

"So what happens now?" asked Marian as the music began again and the villagers began forming rings for more dancing.

"The blessing has been made so our crops and animals should be fruitful for another year," Edward explained, realising that the outlaws probably didn't know the full details of what the Time of the Blessing meant. "Herne's smiled on us again. You're welcome to stay in the village for a night if you'd like a roof over your heads."

"It's too much of a risk, Edward, but thank you," Robin smiled as he spoke. "Thank you for letting us be part of this."

"It was beautiful," agreed Marian. "Thank you."

"It's the least we can do after all you've done for the people of Nottinghamshire," Edward replied honestly. "And you're welcome at the blessing every year as long as I'm thane here."

The outlaws disappeared into the greenwood after the celebrations broke up and Alison told Edward how wonderful the evening had been. Matthew looked wide-eyed that night and announced that he wanted to join Robin's gang. It wasn't completely surprisingly after he'd followed Robin around for most of the evening.

"When you're of age, Matthew, we'll see then," Edward told him. "You might be needed here in Wickham. An outlaw's life is dangerous, you could be killed."

But that didn't stop Matthew talking about it and he spent a lot of time in the forest in the weeks that followed. Sometimes he brought back breathless warnings from Robin about approaching soldiers or Edward sent him to the last place the outlaws had camped in order to ask for their help, knowing that Matthew had learnt how to find them. Edward could see that Matthew wouldn't be a thane, he wanted an outlaw life.

"It is too dangerous," sighed Alison, her hands raw from scrubbing the clothes clean in the river. "But we can't stop him if his mind sticks to it. He's stubborn, like you."

Some of the villagers continued to complain to Edward about the outlaws' appearances in Wickham. It was true that Gisborne and his soldiers rode through the village a lot more often now, and that the villagers sometimes found themselves targeted and bound by the Sheriff as bait. When the mercenaries disrupted the Blessing celebrations one year and many villagers were killed or carried off, some of the remaining villagers demanded that the outlaws never return to Wickham. Robin felt guilty too.

"It's not your fault, Robin," Edward kept a level head during the chaos of accusations and grief. He had learnt how to deal with death by now, but when it was one of his villagers who'd been killed he couldn't help the pained feeling that he should have protected them better. It was his job. He knew how Robin felt, but he also knew that they couldn't dwell on it, neither of them. "You didn't stab Allan or carry off Sarah. You prevented our village from being destroyed by those madmen and you kept Herne safe. Of course some of the villagers will blame you because they can't kill those mercenaries. But it's their grief talking. When they stop hurting, they might see sense."

The outlaws still stayed away from Wickham for a while, but the agitation and fear still gripped some of the villagers and made them bitter and demanding. Edward found that he was arguing the same things over and over again.

"You can't have outlaws in Wickham again, more people will die. What if it was Alison or Matthew? Would you take action then?"

"That's enough. Robin has done all he can to keep us safe and we're not the only village in Nottinghamshire," Edward's voice was loud and firm to the people gathered in front of him. "He hasn't let us down before."

"Would you prefer it if he wasn't here?" that was Alison, defiant and unafraid at his side. "Yes, there's danger, but it would be ten times worse if the Sheriff and his men had no one standing up to them. We need Robin and his men, because without them a lot more of us would suffer and die."

The dissenters were sullen, and Edward felt wearier than he had before. He felt as though he spent more time fighting battles against his own villagers than against the Sheriff, and wondered what way ahead Herne had planned for them all. One evening, Alison found him sat in the greenwood under the sacred tree, his feet resting on the roots. It was as though he was trying to draw strength from the place.

"We could lose our son," he sighed, as Alison sat beside him and pressed her leg against his.

"Michael said that this would be the right time for a rebellion," Alison reminded him. "Maybe Matthew's part of that, maybe we'll have no choice if he becomes an outlaw one day. If that happens, he'll be safer in Sherwood. Robin'll teach him and Herne'll protect him."

Edward nodded and let the silence drift on. Herne had provided the Hooded Man when hope was most needed and Alison was right when she'd said it would worse without Herne or his Son. But even with Robin's help, life was hard for all serfs and peasants.

"Was a thane's work this difficult in my father's time?" Edward mused. "Or maybe I was too young to see how hard it was on him."

"He didn't have to deal with the Sheriff's reaction to Robin and the outlaws," Alison pointed out. "Or make decisions about how to keep Wickham safe and help Herne's Son at the same time."

She lowered her head to rest on her husband's shoulder, squeezing his arm gently, and Edward closed his eyes, breathing in the smells of the forest and the sacred tree above him.

"You're a good man, Edward," Alison said firmly.

Edward gripped her hand in thanks, thanking Herne again for Alison's steady and faithful presence in his life. He could feel it anchoring him again, or perhaps it was the combination of her presence and the sacred tree.

"Come on, Matthew's waiting," Alison clambered to her feet. "He wants to hear another story about the Hooded Man tonight."

Edward smiled, remembering how he used to sit and listen to his father and dream about Herne and Sherwood Forest. Life was not how he'd dreamt it as a child and they were no longer just stories. He could feel the tiredness lifting for the moment and, as he headed home with Alison by his side, he wasn't completely surprised when he thought he caught sight of familiar antlers through the trees.

_-end_


End file.
